Raiders Of The Lost Horcrux
by NothingPretentious
Summary: Ron might end up getting killed chasing after his damned 'fortune and glory'. But not today. * Just a somewhat silly oneshot. *


**"Well, you see..."**

* * *

The man they called 'Indiana' Ron strode coolly into the dingy room. The brawny redhead was wearing his trademark fedora, leather jacket and maroon sweater. A bullwhip was coiled on the left side of his belt and his wand was readied at the right.

His eyes met those of an old nemesis, leaning disdainfully against the wall of the Hog's Head. Ron headed in that direction, picking his way carefully through the rough plank tables and benches of the establishment.

"Small world, Doctor Ron," Lucius greeted him smoothly.

Ron scowled. "Too small for two of us."

"This is the second time I've had to reclaim my property from you," Lucius said, gesturing idly at a small black leather diary lying on a nearby table.

Ron stared aghast at Voldemort's horcrux. It was absolutely not where it should have been, in as far as it was absolutely not where he had securely stowed it. "That belongs in a museum!"

"So do you."

"...That doesn't even make sense."

* * *

The huge swarthy centaur stepped closer, twirling twin scimitars idly in its hands. Ron noted that its teeth had been filed sharp.

The crowd stood around under the scorching Eastern sun, jeering and placing bets.

Each fire-blackened sword was as long as Ron was tall. All the bets seemed to be going one way.

"Yeah, sod this." Ron pulled out his wand and dropped the brute with a stunner.

* * *

"Accio brain!"

The Death Eaters turned in spite of themselves to watch the laden table. The chilled brain burst from the skull of the monkey like a leaping fish. For a moment it seemed suspended in midair, and then it soared towards Ron, spinning as it came, and landed neatly on his fork.

* * *

'Indiana' Ron bunched his fist in the robes of the two Death Eaters, and hurled them viciously through the window of the Hogwarts Express. They plummeted, screaming, to the ground that was speeding by far below. Broken glass trailed after them for a moment in a wide, glittering ribbon.

Ron rubbed his hands in satisfaction, turned around, and froze. A dozen first-years were watching him from the train compartment, their eyes wide with shock.

"...No ticket."

* * *

Ron moved cautiously through the stone doorway, a scrawny boy scampering in his wake.

"Stay behind me, Shortwad. Step where I step ...and don't touch _anything_," Ron said firmly.

Not paying the least bit of attention, Colin Creevey reached out and grabbed a lamp from a niche in the wall. A slab of stone dropped away, and two inferi lurched out.

"I step where you step!" Colin yelped, scrambling backwards in fright. "I touch nothing!

* * *

"Can't you fly a broomstick?" Ron yelled into the slipstream, shooting disarming charms over his shoulder at the pursuing Death Eaters.

"Can't you?" Hermione yelled back, a spell taking a chunk out of the wood next to her hand.

"_Are you a witch or aren't you?_"

Two minutes later, Ron piloted the broomstick to a screeching halt, machine gun bullets bouncing across its fuselage as he pulled it around in a tight circle to protect Draco Malfoy's cowering form.

"That's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!" he yelled, dropping to the tarmac and drawing his wand.

* * *

"Spiders," Ron breathed. "Why did it have to be spiders? I _hate_ spiders."

He hesitantly shone the light from his wand around the dusty stone chamber, and grumbled. "Why couldn't it have been a pit full of butterflies?"

* * *

Ron stared back at Hermione. "You know what your problem is, princess? You're too used to getting your own way."

A pout flickered across her cherry-red lips. "You're just too proud to admit that you're crazy about me, Doctor Ron!"

Ron shrugged and scratched himself. "If you want me Hermione, you know where to find me."

"Five minutes. You'll be back over here in five minutes."

"I'll be asleep in five minutes."

Hermione stormed away. "Five minutes! I'll be in the library!"

'Indiana' Ron watched her go. "She _really_ needs to get her priorities straight."

Creevey stepped out from the shadows of the dresser where he had been lurking. "Why she got to go to the library, Doctor Ron?"

"Because that's what Hermione does, Shortwad. When in doubt, go to the library. It's where seventy percent of archaeology happens, you know."

* * *

"Weasley."

Ron and Arthur looked up. "Yes?" they both said at once.

"I will take ze book now," Lucius said in his usual atrocious German accent. He was flanked by four black-robed Death Eaters, wands out.

The two redheads exchanged glances. "What book?"

"You have ze diary in your pocket," Lucius said coldly.

"You dolt!" Arthur exclaimed. "You think my son would be that stupid? That he would bring the Diary of Tom Riddle all the way back here?"

There was a long silence. "You didn't, did you?"

The silence lengthened, and Mr Weasley's head sank into his hands. "You did, didn't you."

Ron reddened. "Uh..."

"You _did_!"

Ron looked at Malfoy's smirk, and the blank silver masks of the Death Eaters behind him. "Look, can we discuss this later?"

"I should have just mailed it to Gilderoy Lockhart!" Arthur ranted.

"Will you take it easy?" Ron hissed.

"Take it easy? Why do you think I sent it to you in the first place? So it wouldn't fall into the hands of You Know Who's followers!"

"I came here to _save_ you!" Ron shouted.

"Oh, yes? And who's going to come to save you, Ronald?"

Ron snatched Lucius' wand away, immediately casting a burst of blasting curses, and yelled:

"I _told_ you!"

He dodged a volley of stunners, sending a lacerating hex and several bone-breakers in return. "_Don't_!"

A rippling flash of nasty orange light, and the last Death Eater collapsed twitching to the ground.

"Call me Ronald!"

* * *

Ron landed with a thud in the grime of the Chamber of Secrets, and caught Hermione in his arms as she completed her own descent. The wizard adventurer immediately dropped her on her feet, and passed her his wand, the tip of which was lit with a blazing flame.

"Here, take this. Wave it at anything that slithers."

"The whole place is Slytherin!"

* * *

Insane shadows leapt across the rough granite walls. The air was filled with hot smoke, heavy with the sharp scent of blood.

The Death Eater in charge of the cultists' ceremony raised his clenched fist, a human heart still beating within it. "_Bali Mangthi Kali Ma!_"

The evil wizard's wand glowed with a fierce light. Something was taking form in the air in front of him. Something dark and sinister. On the floor, Doctor Ron struggled with the ropes that bound him, sweat pouring down his freckled face.

"_Shakthi Degi Kali Ma!_" the chant continued, building ominously. Blistering flames and sheer echoing doom echoed around the stone chamber, a symphony of terror that was a far cry from the _fortune and glory_ which Ron had been espousing minutes before.

"_Kali ma... Kali ma... Kali ma, shakthi deh!_"

It wouldn't be long now. Ron was too tightly bound; he could barely wriggle his wrists. His pistol was lost in a chasm and his wand had been stolen; even his trusty bullwhip had perished in the flames on the long, dark journey here. There was nothing to do.

Well.

Just one thing.

It could bring the entire mountainside down upon them all, but if he didn't try, the captive children would be killed anyway.

Ron thanked his lucky stars for his natural ability with languages. He thought for a moment, composing the necessary counterspell in his head. Then he took a deep breath, and began to murmur.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow..."

* * *

China tinkled daintily in a beige room in the Ministry Of Magic. The debriefing room was small, tastefully decorated, and completely secure. Cigar smoke curled around the ceiling. Business was done here; serious business.

Ron paused in the act of raising the cup to his lips, as something occurred to him. "What happened to it, in the end?"

Scrimgeour gave a terse smile. "We have top men working on it now."

"Who?"

The Minister narrowed his eyes. "Top... men."

_Thousands of miles away, in the cavernous depths of the Room of Requirement, Dobby slowly levitated a crate through untold towering stacks of similar boxes._

* * *

...

* * *

"Alright, mate." Harry put up his hands in surrender. Behind him, Neville was passed out in a pile of bottles, while Dean was pouring himself another drink, sniggering at something. In the other room, Seamus was hiding under a coffee table from the horror film playing on the widescreen.

Muggle movie night at Harry's was always a hit.

"Alright," Harry repeated. "Let's suppose I believe you. But that still doesn't explain why I found you inside – literally _inside_ – my fridge."

Ron took a deep breath. "Well, you see..."


End file.
